A choice is made
by DreamsofPurpleRoses
Summary: Draco is given another task by Voldemort. Pose as Harry Potter. But when it all goes wrong will Draco be able to face his master or will he instead find help in someone who was supposed to be dead?
1. Draco's second task

"Avada Kedavra." 

The flash of green light illuminated every corner of the room. Charity fell, with a resounding crash, onto the table below, which trembled and creaked. Several of the Death Eaters leapt back in their chairs. Draco fell out of his onto the floor. 

"Dinner, Nagini,"said Voldemort softly, and the great snake swayed and slithered from his shoulders onto the polished wood.

"Leave."

The Death Eaters immediately stood and walked out of the room at their master's order. Draco picked himself up off the floor and hurriedly followed after them.

"Stay, Draco. I need to have a word with you."

Draco froze, as did his parents.

"My lord?"

"Here, Draco. Now." Voldemort said this quietly but the Malfoys could feel the power behind the words.

"But, My lord..." Mumbled Lucius. "What has Draco done?"

"Are you disobeying my orders, Lucius?" Voldemort hissed. "I believe I told you to leave."

"Of course, My lord. So sorry..." Narcissa gave Draco's shoulder a quick squeeze, then her and Lucius left, throwing worried looks over their shoulders.

When they were gone, Voldemort waved Lucius's wand and all the doors snapped shut.

"Sit." Said Voldemort.

Draco sat, trying to avoid looking at Nagini, who was happily ripping her dinner apart.

"I have another job for you, Draco."

Draco finally turned his head towards Voldemort, shaking slightly. "Another job, My lord?"

"Yes. Seeing how you failed the last one, I thought I would give you another chance." Voldemort put on an evil smile that made Draco even more scared.

"What must I d-do, My lord?" Draco was worried. The last task the Dark Lord had given him was to kill somebody. He didn't think he could do that, seeing as what happened last time.

"Ahhh, Draco. I can tell you are worried. But this task doesn't involve killing anybody. At least not directly. No, no,no, Draco. For this task you'll have to be a really good actor." Voldemort was stroking Nagini, who had finished her meal and was looking slightly larger than before.

Draco was now utterly confused. Acting? Had the Dark Lord, maybe, gone a little off the deep end?

"Acting, My lord?"

"Yes, Draco. Acting. I have gone over the plan in my head many times. They will notice Potter is gone when I take him. They will come looking and save him. I don't need that, Draco. They need to believe they have Harry with them, at least until it's already too late." Voldemort smiled at the thought.

Draco didn't like the sound of the plan so far. If the Dark Lord was saying what Draco thought he was saying...there was no way he could do that.

"You are going to make them think they have Potter, till I tell you to come back. You are going to take Polyjuice potion and turn into Potter...till the real one is dealt with..."

"But, My lord!" Draco knew he was speaking out of turn but couldn't help it. This was insane! "Me turn into Potter! Why me?"

"Why you?" Voldemort hissed, standing up and placing his hands on the table. Draco instantly shrunk back in his seat, knowing the Dark Lord didn't like to be questioned. "Who else has gone to school with Potter? You know how he acts, what he does. Any of my other Death Eaters would slip up and blow the whole plan. And you are also my only Death Eater who knows how to act like a teenager."

Draco wanted to argue more, but knew it was pointless. There was no changing the Dark Lord's mind.

"When do you want me to take it, My lord? Now?"

"No, not now. I will tell you when the time is right...now leave, and say not a word to your parents or you will be sorry."

Draco slowly stood up. Shaking all over, he headed over to the door, tapped the door with his wand and left, his thoughts filled with what he would have to do in the task ahead.


	2. Thinking it over

Draco lay on his four poster bed, staring up towards the ceiling, taking in the dark mahogany wood that was the roof of his bed. He was thinking, but not happy thoughts. Happy thoughts refused to come at a time like this.

Whatever he had expected the Dark Lord to say was far from what actually happened. He didn't know how he was going to pull it off. Pretending to be Potter? The very thought made him want to throw up. He wanted to refuse, but of course with the Dark Lord that wasn't an option.

Draco sat up, rubbing his eyes. He was dead tired, but knew he couldn't go to sleep yet. He could be called at anytime, and needed to be awake when that happened.

Pulling back the dark green hangings around his bed, he surveyed his room, trying to distract himself. His eyes roamed from the Slytherin banner that hung on the wall, to the pictures frames on his dresser that held pictures of the Malfoy's whose smiles all looked forced.

Clothes were spread all over the floor, and his trunk was wide open, its contents mixed together in no particular order. Draco wasn't one for cleaning. He normally got the house elf to do that, but at the moment he just wanted to be alone.

Finally the sleep became too much to fight. Maybe it was the task at hand, or maybe it was the many sleepless nights that Draco experienced, worrying. His head fell back onto his pillow, and his eyes closed. Seconds later, sleep over took him.

_He was standing in front of a battered looking house; it had to be at least five stories high, and looked as if each floor had been thrown carelessly onto the next. He remembered this place from somewhere, but he couldn't quite place it. _

_He was looking around, trying to remember, when the front door was thrown open and a plump woman with red hair ran out. She looked familiar to Draco, but before he could ponder this she had wrapped him in a bone crushing hug, effectively cutting off his air supply._

_Draco was a taken back. Who was this woman?_

"_Harry! Harry, you made it! You're okay!" She cried, hugging him even tighter. _

_'Harry?' Draco thought. 'Is she talking to me?'_

_She held him out at arms length and looked him up and down. "You look a bit peckish, but we'll have to wait for the others." She said shakily. "Come inside, dear, come inside."_

_She walked away and back into the house, leaving Draco thoroughly confused. She had been talking to him. But his name was Draco, not Harry._

_Then it finally dawned on him. He shakily looked down and nearly fell over in shock. He was shorter, and thinner. He felt his face and realized it wasn't his own. And then he noticed the glasses. _

"_No...I'm not him..." His hand moved to his forehead and he found what he was looking for. A scar. His body went cold and he fell to his knees, shaking all over. This wasn't true, couldn't be true..._

_There was a noise behind him, and he turned to come face to face with The Dark Lord._

"_My l-lord?" He stammered, backing away._

"_Harry Potter...I have been waiting too long for this day." He smiled evilly and Draco stumbled back even farther. "Prepare to beg for death. Crucio!"_

Draco woke up quickly, screaming and slamming his head on the wall. Rubbing his injured skull, he tried to calm himself. He thought about the dream he just had. He knew who that woman was now. It was Weasley's mother. Draco remembered it from a newspaper clipping he had showed Weasley awhile back about how his blood traitor of a father had gone off to help Mad-eye Moody.

He remembered laughing at how fat Weasley's mother was.

He reached up and felt his face just to make sure it was his own. He let out a deep breath...it was just a dream. But he knew that soon, it would not be. The Dark Lord had looked so real. He shuddered at the memory.

There was a knock on door and his mother and father came inside. His mother ran forward and grabbed him by the shoulders, causing him to shake slightly. His father remained by the door, looking nervous.

"What did he say, Draco? What is he making you do? Did he hurt you?" She looked him up and down, as if checking for a cut or a bruise.

Still getting over the shock over his dream, Draco just shook his head.

"Draco we don't have time for this. Spit it out already." His father said, glancing at the door as though they weren't supposed to be there.

"I can't tell. He said not to." Draco mumbled, looking at the floor. He knew that if he looked at his parents he would crack and tell them everything.

"Just tell us, Draco. We want to help." Tears welled up in Narcissa's eyes. "Please."

Draco felt the tears in his own eyes, but refused to let them fall. "I can't, Mum. I don't want you to get hurt. He said I couldn't tell anyone...or else."

Narcissa looked as if she wanted to say more, but Lucius cut her off. "Narcissa, we must not let anyone find us here. We have to leave."

His mother leaned forward and wrapped him in a hug. "Promise me you'll be safe?" she whispered.

"I promise." He let the lie come forward, wanting to reassure his mother, but knowing it was more likely something would go horribly wrong.

She held him out in front of her, taking him in as though it would be the last time she ever saw him. Giving him a departing kiss, she turned and headed towards the door, which Lucius held open. She stopped in the door frame.

"I love you, Draco." And with these final words she walked through the door, and his father followed after, closing the door behind him.

Alone, Draco had nothing to do but fall back on his bed, desperately wishing he could have told his parents everything...


	3. It's time

It's a funny thing. When you are dreading something, desperately wishing for it to never happen, the time to do that something comes a whole lot faster than you would have liked. This is what it was like for Draco.

He was laying on his bed, half asleep, when he door was flung open and Bellatrix strode in, looking happier than ever. "It's time, Draco."

"Already?" He moaned, covering his face with a pillow.

Bellatrix walked over and wrapped her claw-like nails around his arm. "Yes. Now come. I will not allow you to keep the Dark Lord waiting." She dragged him off of his bed, and pulled him behind her as she went to return to her master's side.

Draco didn't even bother to fight back. He knew it was time and putting it off would only be worse.

Hallway after hallway they went through, and Draco wished they could go on forever. It wasn't that he was scared...well, actually, it was that. He was terrified. Not only of his master, but of the Order of the Phoenix if they found out he was impersonating their golden boy. That definitely wouldn't go over well.

Bellatrix pulled him down stairs, three at a time. Draco nearly tripped a number of times. When they finally reached the ground floor and made their way into the entrance hall, Bellatrix waved her wand and the doors flew open.

Outside, Death Eaters were lined up in a row, broomsticks at their feet. Voldemort stood behind them, arms crossed behind his back.

When the door slammed open, Voldemort looked up at them. "Bellatrix...you have Draco. Good. Take you spot by Dolohov. Draco, here." He pointed to a spot next to him.

Bellatrix took her assigned position and the Death Eaters looked back at their master awaiting an order.

"Now, all of you mount your brooms and take off. They will be moving the boy shortly and I want you to be there. Draco and I will follow shortly...Lucius, do you have something you want to add?" He asked, as Lucius looked on the verge of interrupting.

"No, my Lord. It is nothing." Lucius looked away, embarrassed.

"Very well. Now go. If you fail, you will all be sorry..."

With this last threat in their minds, the Death Eaters mounted their brooms and kicked off into the sky. Draco watched them till they blended in with the darkness of the night, and he no longer could. He secretly wished he was one of them right now.

"Put this on, Draco." Voldemort tossed him a large black hooded cloak. "When you transform I don't think it would be wise for me to see you."

Draco agreed and hurriedly pulled the cloak over his head. It was much too big for him, but he didn't complain. He knew better than that. He also pulled the hood on to hide his face.

Draco turned and saw that Voldemort was holding out a flask to him. Inside a mud-like potion bubbled and popped. It smelled horrible.

Draco took the flask and held it while Voldemort took a small vial out of his pocket. Inside were a few black hairs, which Voldemort poured into the potion. The liquid inside instantly turned bright gold.

"Drink."

Draco looked down at the flask in his hand and hesitated. Did he really want to do this? A glare from his master reminded him that it didn't matter if he wanted to or not. He was going to obey orders.

His hand shaking, he brought the flask to his mouth and took a drink. It tasted horrible.

The effects were instantaneous. His skin started burning, his stomach started churning. Falling to his knees, Draco began shaking, feeling his body transform, arms wrapped around his stomach. He wanted desperately for agony to stop. Then, as quick as it came, the pain was gone.

Draco got shakily to his feet. Everything was blurry. A shape beside him held out something, and Draco took it. They were glasses. When he put them on everything came into focus.

He was shorter. That was the first thing he noticed. The cloak fit even worse than before. He felt his face. It wasn't his own. Dark hair hung down in his eyes. Draco put his hand to his forehead and felt it. The scar...his hand instantly retracted. It was just like his dream. He was Harry Potter.

"Go now, Draco. Follow the others. When I take Potter, you take his place. Make it look real. I don't want them to be suspicious."

Draco picked up his broom and mounted it.

"And, Draco. Do not fail me this time. Or run away. If you do, Harry Potter won't be the only one I'll send my Death Eaters after." Voldemort said this coldly, and Draco knew he was completely serious. He didn't want anymore failures where Harry Potter was concerned.

"Aren't you coming, My Lord?" He asked, as the Dark Lord continued to stand there.

"I will follow shortly. Go."

Draco obeyed, kicking off the ground and into the air, more than happy to leave.

Then he was flying. And there were no worries. There was no Dark Lord and there was no plan. There was just the wind blowing in his hair and the clouds that he flew through. The cold mist that settled on his face.

He felt free. He swooped and spun in the air, loving the feeling. Nobody was ordering him around. There was no pressure bearing down on him to impress someone, or do as he was told. Nothing stood in his way but the clouds in the sky. All he wanted to do was stay here and fly...

But the scene that suddenly appeared before him brought him back to reality. Flying through the sky the Death Eaters had split up and were tailing seven Harry Potters, each with a different Order member at their side. The Potter closest to him was crammed into a sidecar attached to a motorbike, shooting spells at the Death Eaters behind him. He was with Hagrid, the gamekeeper at Hogwarts. He could not hear the spells they were yelling, but could see what was happening.

Suddenly, much to Draco's surprise, a huge brick wall came out of the exhaust pipe. One unlucky Death Eater didn't move out of the way in time, and was knocked off his broom. Draco heard his screams slowly fade away as he fell through the sky.

Draco had been so distracted that he had forgotten about the brick wall which was still coming right at him. He barely swerved in time to avoid it.

Seconds later a net came out as well. The Death Eaters avoided this easily. Draco wasn't so lucky. While trying to avoid the net, he accidentally lost his grip on the broom, and fell. For five full seconds, which felt like forever to Draco, he was free falling. He flailed about, and his hand found the handle of his broom.

With skills he didn't know he possessed he managed to pull himself up and over, till he was safely back on the broom. A little shaken, Draco forced himself to catch up with the Death Eaters.

The spells again started shooting, and it looked like the Death Eaters were winning.

But Draco should have known that Hagrid had one more trick up his sleeve. A huge blast of fire came out of the exhaust pipe, shooting the motorbike forward. The Death Eaters scrambled to get out of the way, and Draco was forced to spin so he wouldn't get burned.

The force of the speed must have been too much, because the sidecar on the motorbike broke off and both it and the Potter inside fell through the air. Then it shot up like a cork. The Potter in the sidecar spun around and shot a spell at the Death Eaters, hitting one and almost causing them to crash into the others.

Hagrid grabbed the Potter by the back of his robes and pulled him on to the bike, where he perched awkwardly. The Potter dropped a cage and caused it to explode. This knocked one Death Eater off his broom and caused him to fall towards earth.

Spells were shot back and forth, an epic battle of light filling the sky.

Then a cry rang out. "That's him! It's him! It's the real one!"

Draco had no idea how they knew this, but readied himself all the same as the Death Eaters all fell back and disappeared into the clouds. The fire shot out again, pushing the bike even further ahead.

Then Draco saw him.

Voldemort was right behind Potter,and was sending spells at him. He was flying. He had no broom stick or anything. He was merely gliding in the air. Draco's mouth fell open. Nobody told him the Dark Lord could fly.

A Death Eater appeared right next to Potter, raising his wand. But before he could say anything, Hagrid launched himself at the Death eater, and they both fell though the air.

Potter was alone and the Dark Lord was right next to him. Draco saw Voldemort mouth a spell, but before he could finish something spectacular happened. Brilliant golden flames shot from Potter's wand right at the Dark Lord, who fell back.

For a third time flames propelled the bike forward. The bike looked like it was out of Potter's control. Voldemort had again found his way next to Harry. This time he closed his fingers around Harry's neck and pulled him off the bike and into the air.

Draco saw his cue. The bike crashed into a yard where a big body lay face down. Draco knew he had to make this look convincing. So against his better judgment, even though his mind screamed that it wasn't worth it, even though his limbs wanted to cling desperately to the broom, even though he just wanted to fly away, he slipped off his broom and tumbled through the air.

He fell with surprising speed and hit the ground hard. There was a snap. Pain instantly spread throughout his body. The ground was the only thing he could see. _Great performance, _he thought. And for good measure, he passed out...

Harry felt Voldemort before he saw him. Looking sideways, he stared into the red eyes and was sure they would be the last thing he ever saw.

Voldemort smiled wickedly and reached out, closing his long, pale fingers around Harry's neck. Immediately, there was a terrible pain in his scar. He wanted to scream but Voldemort placed a hand over Harry's mouth, preventing just that.

Harry squirmed and struggled as Voldemort pulled him off of the motorbike and into the air. The Dark Lord responded to this by tightening his grip on Harry's neck. Harry shut his eyes against the pain, the cold wind stinging his face.

Voldemort flew down towards the trees below, dragging Harry behind him. Harry stopped his struggling, knowing it was futile. He went limp, hoping the dead weight would steer Voldemort off course.

But Voldemort was stronger than he looked. He went below the treeline, and Harry was sure they were going to crash. But Voldemort pulled up at the last second, weaving in and out of the trunks.

The trees seemed to go on forever. Harry's scar was burning horribly, and it was all he could do not to cry. He didn't even notice when the trees started to thin till Voldemort let go of his neck and he tumbled to the ground, landing on his stomach.

His head hit the ground hard. He was dizzy and he hurt all over. He couldn't think, didn't want to think. He kept his eyes tightly closed, afraid of what he would see when he opened them.

The plan was supposed to work. They would go to different Order members houses, then meet up at the Burrow. Everything was supposed to fall into place. But it didn't. Harry had been taken after all they had gone through to keep him safe. Questions raced through his mind. Were the others safe? Was anybody dead? Had they seen him been taken? Surely, though, they would notice his dissapperence and come to save him. Harry clung to this tiny ray of hope.

"Harry, I know you're awake." A voice hissed. Harry knew that voice and shuddered. But he didn't turn to face Voldemort.

"Harry..." He heard footsteps, and curled upon himself, keeping his eyes shut tight, wanting to just disappear.

"Harry, look at me..." Voldemort hissed again. There was laughter all around him. Harry knew it was the Death Eaters. He had a flashback to his fourth year, when the Triwizard cup had taken him and Cedric into Voldemort's waiting arms.

"You're scared, aren't you, Harry?"

The foot steps had stopped. Harry felt Voldemort standing next to him. But he still refused to open his eyes and face him. Maybe if he didn't acknowledge him, he would just go away. Harry knew it was a stupid thought.

Harry felt and hand on his shoulder, and felt himself being turned over. He felt Voldemort's stare on him. But Harry still pretended to be unconscious.

He heard Voldemort sigh. "Very well..." He felt Voldemort's finger touch his scar and he screamed. The pain was blinding. His eyes shot open and he was staring into the face of Lord Voldemort, who was smiling. Pained green eyes meet red and for a minute there was a falter in Voldemort's smile. He seemed confused.

He removed his finger from Harry's forehead and Harry lay crying on the ground. He tried to stop the tears but couldn't. He hated looking weak in front of Voldemort.

The look of confusion was gone as fast as it came. Voldemort's hand shot forward and grabbed a fistful of Harry's hair. He stood up, pulling Harry with him, till they were eye to eye. Harry glared at his parent's killer, hate filling every bone in his body.

"There is no escape, Harry." Voldemort whispered in his ear. "No portkey, no Dumbledore. Nothing to save you."

"You're wrong." Harry felt the longer he kept Voldemort talking the longer he would stay alive. "The others will notice I'm gone. They'll come looking for me."

"But, Harry." Voldemort smiled."For all they know you are with them right now." All thoughts of rescue fled from his mind. Voldemort wasn't lying. They didn't know he was gone? That had been his very last hope. He could see no way out of this now.

Voldemort was right. Nobody was here to save him this time.

The worry must have shown on his face because Voldemort laughed. Then his look turned serious and he tightened his grip on Harry's hair, causing him to cry out in pain.

"If I could I would kill you right now." Harry was confused. Voldemort couldn't kill him? "You have interfered with my plans for too long. But seeing as you destroyed Lucius's wand, and my wand won't work either, I have no means of doing so."

Harry hadn't thought of this. He could not explain what his wand had done when they had been flying, and could not grantee it wouldn't happen again. He felt that tiny ray of hope come back to him.

Voldemort couldn't kill him after all...

"Don't get your hopes up, Potter. I will finish you off, after I've had a little chat with someone. But when I return, you are dead." He dropped Harry, who landed on the ground with a thud, and addressed his Death Eaters.

"Potter is not to leave. If he escapes it will be your heads." He walked towards the trees and stopped. "He can bleed. Just don't kill him." With this he turned on the spot and vanished, leaving Harry alone with the Death Eaters.

Harry looked around and saw that the Death Eaters had taken Voldemort's words to heart, as everyone of them had their wands out and pointing at him...


End file.
